


Xander: The Series

by barefootxo



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Lethal Weapon (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 13:50:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5293523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barefootxo/pseuds/barefootxo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an accident during Graduation causes Buffy to ban Xander from slaying, Xander moves to LA to take the fight to the darkness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Graduation Present

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or X-men. They belong to Joss Whedon and Marvel Comics, I believe... Oh and the fanart is an amalgam of mostly BtVS and Marvel pics.  
  
AN: Please note that Jubilee will not be coming into the plot for a couple of episodes. I need to get Xander established in L.A. before she comes into the plot. Please note that this takes place post Graduation. However, there will be a few subtle differences in the pre-Graduation plot-line...  
  
~~  
  
  
  
**  
  
Sunnydale Memorial Hospital  
June 27th 1999  
  
As he lay there in the hospital, staring up at the ceiling, Xander contemplated the ironies of his life. It is perhaps ironic that many believed him to be the most positive member of the Scooby Gang. Nothing could be further from the truth. Xander was merely good at faking a positive attitude. Honestly, Xander had believed that they were doomed to die without graduating high school. Their last ditch effort had been desperate, Buffy had been more concerned with Deadboy then she had the fate of the world… not that that was unusual in any way. She had only ever put the fate of the world over good ol’ Captain Forehead once, and that was only with the fate of the world hanging by a literal thread. Honestly, Xander was past blaming Angel for it, these days. The thrice-damned vamp might be a coward, but he was not the one who forced Buffy to do such things.  
  
Anyway, suffice it to say that Xander was feeling lucky to be alive, and so he did not much care about the loss of his right eye by comparison. He had even managed to stake the vamp responsible, after the vamp took an unwise moment to gloat about Xander’s helpless situation. Vamps were such drama queens. Maybe it wasn’t Deadboy’s fault he was the same way. Maybe it was a vamp thing…  
  
Finally Xander, despite lying in the hospital with a bandage covering much of the right side of his face, allowed an impish grin to grace his face. Mock him though Cordy had over his succession of small jobs that he had slaved at quietly through high school, she wouldn’t be laughing now. Knowing as he did that it was only a matter of time before a regular human like himself picked up a severe injury on the hellmouth, Xander had poured all of his money except for the bit saved up for his road trip, into insurance. Now Xander was looking at a pretty sweet check from the insurance. Certainly it wasn’t a huge amount, but combined with his road trip fund it would likely be enough to start his own business without a loan. No more dead end jobs for Xander Harris. No sirree.  
  
Alas, all good feelings must eventually come to an end, and the hellmouth was especially vindictive about raining on Xander’s parade. And so it is unsurprising that this was the moment when Buffy Summers entered Xander’s hospital room. “Xander?”  
  
Xander flashed a grin at her. “Hey, Buff. How’s the celebration going?”  
  
Buffy seemed oddly confused by his statement. “Celebration?”  
  
“Come on, Buffy. We survived high school, not to mention the mayor. You’re telling me that you don’t consider that to be worthy of celebration?”  
  
Buffy looked incredibly uncomfortable. “Angel is leaving me and you have been permanently disfigured. You’ll excuse me if I don’t feel much like celebrating.”  
  
Xander sighed in exasperation. “This little thing. This won’t keep me down for even a week. I’ll be back on patrol in no time.”  
  
Buffy shook her head. “No, you won’t Xan…”  
  
“Of course I will. You think I’d leave you in the lurch over a little thing like this. Please, why I…”  
  
“You’re not following, Xander. You are not patrolling anymore. I’m putting you fray-adjacent.”  
  
“Buffy, we’ve been through this before and there is no way…”  
  
“…that I am going to let you talk me out of it this time, Xander. You’re finished. Your past injuries were bad enough, but this is it for you. This is the end of the line. You were already too weak to really handle fighting the night, before. Now, you’re more a liability on patrol if I let you go. I am not going to risk you getting someone killed, Xand.”  
  
Xander sat in bed, stone-faced, for a long moment before responding. “You can’t take me out of this duty, Buffy. It’s not your choice to make. I made a promise to Jesse, a long while back. I said I would fight the night until the day I died. I’m not dead yet, so the battle goes on.”  
  
Buffy seemed confused. “Who’s Jesse?”  
  
Xander felt a pain like heartburn well in his chest when Buffy professed not to know Jesse. The only reason he did not lash out at Buffy physically was because he knew it wasn’t her fault. She had not really known Jesse very long at all. “Jesse was a good friend of mine. He’s dead now. For me to give up my fight against the night would be the equivalent of spitting on his grave. I won’t do it.”  
  
Buffy’s face firmed up, going stony. “I didn’t offer you a choice, Xan. I see you out hunting and I will drag you into the nearest building, kicking and screaming.”  
  
Seeing Buffy’s resolve, Xander became resigned. He didn’t want to do what he was going to, but he wasn’t willing to give up a duty he considered as sacred as Buffy’s could ever be, and a hundred times more personal. “Well, you won’t have to watch for me long. I’m going on that road trip, soon as I can get used to seeing with one eye.”  
  
Buffy smiled, seeing Xander’s resigned expression as capitulation to her demands. More the fool she. “That’s great, Xand. Maybe that road trip is just what you need to embrace normal again.”  
  
Xander did not bother answering Buffy’s empty assurance as she swept happily from his hospital room.  
  
**  
  
  
Crawford Street Manor  
July 29th 1999  
  
It had taken Xander the better part of a month to get back to the point where he was comfortable walking and driving with an eye-patch. The loss of depth perception was a problem, but Xander was a soldier in more then memories. He would always soldier through.  
  
Today was the day that Xander intended to start his ‘road trip’, though the trip was gonna be a hell of a lot shorter then Buffy or Willow realised. As Xander had expected, Willow had fallen in behind Buffy like a good little puppy dog. If Willow was good later, maybe Buff would give her a biscuit. Xander didn’t much care at this point. Their friendship hadn’t really been the same since the fluke, or perhaps their problems dated back to Buffy’s arrival. It didn’t matter. Now all that mattered was protecting his girls. Xander couldn’t do that anymore and so he had to turn to another to do it for him. And damned if that didn’t leave a bitter taste in his mouth.  
  
“Hello Xander.”  
  
Xander turned to see Angel waiting for him. “Hey, Deadboy. How’s tricks?”  
  
Angel grimaced at the hated nickname. “What do you want, Harris? I was going to leave tonight, you know.”  
  
Xander nodded. “I do. I’m here to convince you to stay.”  
  
Ol’ Deadboy’s eyes widened in shock. “What?”  
  
Xander sighed in exasperation. “Yeah, I never thought I’d have to say this either, but I need you to be here for Buffy and Willow. I can’t do it anymore. They won’t let me. They will let you.”  
  
Angel sneered slightly in disgust. “You’re just gonna quit. And here I thought your friends meant something to you, Harris.”  
  
Xander’s one eye pierced Angel like a stake. “You can’t protect someone who won’t let you do it, Deadboy. I need you to protect them, because Buffy might actually let you do it. She refuses to see me as anything but an invalid anymore. The only promise I’m gonna make you give me is that you have Giles scan you regularly to make sure that curse of yours is holding tight.”  
  
Angel was still rather thrown by all this. “So what’s going to happen with you, then? I never took you for the sideline type. You’d go crazy within a month.”  
  
Xander smiled genuinely at Angel for a long moment. “My insurance paid off big. I’m going to L.A. to start off a business, as cover for my demon hunting ops.”  
  
Angel stared at Xander for a long time. “You realise that L.A. isn’t exactly minor league, from a demon perspective. I respect you, Harris, I really do, but you’ll be dead within a week if you go it alone.”  
  
Xander shocked Angel by nodding. “Agreed. Buffy would have been dead a dozen times over if not for the Scooby Gang being around for her. And I am more then willing to acknowledge that I am not her level. I’m building a team, to fight the night. I’ve even managed to recruit my first teammate. He’s a former Watcher…”  
  
Angel’s eyes bugged out. “Wesley?”  
  
Xander snorted. “You’ve gotta be joking. Nah, I’m gonna be on the hunt with Sam Zabuto. He’s a good man. I have a lot of respect for him.”  
  
Angel nodded woodenly. “I’ll stay Xander. I’ll watch over them for you.”  
  
Xander smiled broadly, briefly reminding Angel of Cordy’s megawatt grin. “Thank you… Angel…”  
  
Angel was so shocked that Xander had actually called him by name that he only turned back to find Xander gone from Sunnydale. Buffy’s White Knight had passed on his title to Angel. And as for Xander… Xander was escaping to L.A. to continue fulfilling a promise he made on Jesse’s grave only a couple of years ago…  
  
~~  
  
For canon-pickers, Xander lost his 'right' eye at graduation in this fic. I realise it was his left in canon, but that was a different circumstance.  
  
Hope you liked  
  
Jasper


	2. Escape from L.A.

I still don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or X-men. They are still owned by Joss Whedon and Marvel Comics respectively. Jubilee will be debuting in the next chapter after this one. I also don't own the Star Wars reference. George Lucas does.  
  
~~  
  
_Mr. Sid’s Escape from L.A._  
 _August 6th 1999_  
  
As he sat in the back of the local demon bar, sipping a rather weak beer, Xander concluded that the black eye-patch had its advantages. Granted, it also came with its disadvantages. Not being able to see out of your right eye is a pain the royal arse. Still, Xander concluded, the eye-patch gave his otherwise empty eye-socket a slight advantage. It was quite simple, really, and he had Hollywood to thank for it. The simple fact was that people associated an eye-patch with tough and often evil folk. Nick Fury was probably the only guy in an eye-patch that was considered good these days and sometimes people even wondered if Fury was all sweetness and light too. Suffice it to say, Xander’s eye-patch seemed to keep the local riffraff from troubling him too much. The only problem, which looked to be coming up right now, was that some people were looking for a challenge and thought takin’ on the man with the patch might make them look tougher to their precious hangers on.  
  
“Hey! You! You’re in my seat, one-eye. Mayhaps you be gettin’ out, hunh?” The big galoot, luckily enough, was a demon that Xander was familiar with. An Arnakh demon. Arnakh’s can take a lot of hits and damage and not die, but they are relatively sensitive around the nose. Best of all, an Arnakh doesn’t require silver or cold iron or some funky little weapon for one to use to do the inflicting.  
  
Xander smiled at the Arnakh, making no move whatsoever to get up. “Hi there. Yeah, I’m afraid some idiot must have removed the sign that says this is yours…” Xander glanced around the comfy booth that had placed him back to the wall, just as he liked. Xander suddenly zeroed in on some graffiti on the seat next to him. “Unless of course you’re the one who wrote ‘for a good time, call Suzie’?”  
  
The demon, which Xander knew full well was male and likely not named Suzie, growled angrily as a few titters of laughter echoed through the demon bar. “I will rip off your head and spit on your corpse, human.”  
  
Xander, worried though he was, tried not to show it. If his plan didn’t work, the Arnakh would likely do just that. Still, Xander had a reputation to maintain, and he couldn’t show fear. Fear got you killed in this city as surely as it did in Sunnydale. “Now honestly… Can’t we all just get along? After all, wouldn’t the anti-violence wards cause you a pile of hurt.” Xander didn’t think there were anti-violence wards, but it never hurts to double-check…  
  
The demon laughed loudly, apparently thinking Xander had miscalculated. “Foolish mortal. This is not the Caritas. There are no anti-violence wards…”  
  
Xander feigned mild surprise. “Really?”  
  
The demon nodded eagerly and stepped closer. “Really.”  
  
Xander put on a half-pout. “Damn.”  
  
The demon grinned widely. “Indeed.”  
  
And with that, the table exploded, followed immediately by the Arnakh’s snout, which was utterly pulverised by two shots in swift succession from the Colt 1911 Xander had palmed beneath the table. With the demon in question unable to move from the pain, though certainly not dead, Xander stood and walked around the groaning demon and dropped a fifty on the bar next to Mr. Sid. “Sorry about the mess…” And with that, Xander strode from the bar, leaving the demons in shock. Most hunters didn’t use guns, and while many demons couldn’t be hurt by them, those that could feared them and those that wielded them.  
  
**  
  
It was just outside the bar that Xander felt his arm grabbed by a strong hand. Feeling the grip, Xander immediately suppressed the impulse to lash out. He knew that grip, had been waiting for this person for quite a while. “Hello Sam.”  
  
The Jamaican man shook his head despairingly. “You, me lad, watch too many movies. Do you have any idea how lucky you were tonight.”  
  
Xander merely grinned. “Damn lucky, Sam, but I had to. That demon had me pinned in my booth. The only way out was to shock the living hell out of him and everyone else. Besides, I’ve been waiting to deliver the Han Solo classic for years now. After all, everyone knows Han shot first…”  
  
Zabuto, all too familiar with Xander’s proclivities towards watching sci-fi movies for inspiration, merely rolled his eyes. “It was unwise to be wit’out backup, Alexander. You have no idea…”  
  
“Of course I have an idea, Sam. I sent for you to help me, didn’t I? Does that sound like a guy trying to take on the night alone?”  
  
Sam nodded, a little happier now. “No, mah lad. And I am glad that you sent for me. With Kendra… with Kendra dead, the Council has no time for me. The new head, Travers, does not think much of the watchers who were born in da colonies. That is why I was a field watcher, cuz they have a shorter life expectancy, you see. Travers was most glad to receive my resignation.”  
  
Xander grinned in response. “So was I, old friend. Though I doubt very much that Travers and I had the same reasons to be glad of your resignation from the Council.”  
  
Sam chuckled. “Certainly not, mah boy. Now, where are we gonna be a’startin’ up this business of yours?”  
  
Xander’s smile was broad and real. He had missed Sam. Zabuto and he had only met briefly, but they had formed a solid friendship around their mutual ground… Kendra. “I bought up an old abandoned police station. Luckily, I was able to get it on the cheap, or I likely would have much money left. It ate up most of my insurance money, but I still have a bit… and my road trip fund.”  
  
“Don’t you worry so much, boy. Ol’ Zabuto didn’t come empty-handed. I have a pretty nice bank account with my watcher salary in it. I used my cover job to pay for myself, and the council stipend to pay for Kendra’s expenses, comparatively few though they were.”  
  
“So you’ve got a tidy little nest egg and you’re looking to invest in the private detective business, eh Sam.”  
  
“Quite right, my boy. Quite right. Let us see this former police station. I assume it needs some work?”  
  
“Count on it, old timer. But if you’ve got the capital to back me up, we should be well on our way. Especially if we do the work ourselves to avoid labour costs.”  
  
Sam nodded agreeably. “I’m decent at electricity.”  
  
Xander nodded in response. “And I’m a decent carpenter. I suppose will have to hire a plumber, but otherwise we should have things covered.”  
  
Sam allowed the silence to settle for a long while, before bringing up a topic that had long bothered him. “She loved you, you know.”  
  
Xander froze for a moment before continuing their walk. “I know…”  
  
“Why did you never do anything about it, lad.”  
  
“Because I was with Cordy. I didn’t want to mess that up. Not that it helped me, in the end. I still can’t figure out why I cheated on Cordy, and with Willow of all people. I mean, I know Willow has had a candle for me forever, but I’ve never thought of her in that sense.”  
  
“She is a witch, isn’t she?”  
  
Xander spun about on Sam, leveling his friend with an icy glare. “Don’t you dare ever suggest that again. Willow may be careless in her magic on occasion, perhaps even foolish, but I will not accept the idea that she might try to coerce me into loving her, especially while she’s with Oz. Frankly, I’m shocked that she cheated on him too.”  
  
Sam nodded reluctantly. He was a little less willing to think well of a witch who’s first piece of major magic had been a soul curse, but he understood that Willow was dangerous territory with Xander. There was too much history there for Xander to consider foul play by her. And Sam, though he hated to admit it, doubted his previous assertion too. “I gotta say, Xander, I wish she had gone to Sunnydale that second time while you were still single. You would have been good together.”  
  
“Maybe you’re right, Sam. I just hope she found peace in the hereafter.”  
  
“Me too, my boy, me too…”  
  
**  
  
_International Council of Watchers_  
 _August 8th 1999_  
  
“The people you requested are here, Mr. Travers.”  
  
“Ah, thank you Roger. That will be all.”  
  
“Very good, sir.”  
  
Without further ado, three shadowy figures detached themselves from the shadows. The one in the centre spoke for them all. “What need have you of the Order of Taraka, Watcher?”  
  
Quentin grinned maliciously and passed out three copies of a photo. “A young man has been interfering a great deal with the Chosen One lately. His influence is attributed to divided loyalties and outright rebellions in our last three Chosen Ones. This trend cannot be allowed to continue.”  
  
“If this boy is such a problem, why have you not dealt with him before now?”  
  
“He was, until recently, under the protection of the current slayer on the hellmouth, Buffy Summers. If we killed him under her eye, that might have made a martyr of him…”  
  
“And now?”  
  
“Now, one of my watchers has recently quit his job and gone to work for the boy in Los Angeles. Things happen all the time, assassin. Surely the Council cannot be blamed if the boy were to have an unfortunate accident whilst away from his precious slayer…”  
  
The assassin grinned. “Quite true, Mr. Travers. Any other instructions?”  
  
“Use the utmost caution when dealing with the boy. He is not to be underestimated. Your Order has already lost one agent to the boy’s hand, I would be most disappointed if you were to fail me.”  
  
The assassin bowed deeply. “It will be done… The usual price…?”  
  
Quentin nodded agreeably. “But of course…”  
  
The assassins turned to leave.  
  
“Oh. There is one more thing. If Sam Zabuto should get in your way… kill him too. Hell, I’ll even throw in a small bonus.”  
  
The lead assassin nodded. “This concludes our business, honoured sir. We will contact you for payment when the job is complete. It may, however, take some time to plan and prepare. We want to make sure the job is done right if the boy is dangerous as you claim.”  
  
“Take all the time you need. Just see to it that that little insect is squashed under the boot of the Order of Taraka…”  
  
~~  
  
And here's where the fun begins...  
  
Jasper


	3. Day of Jubilee

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, X-men, The Shadow or Lethal Weapon. The first two are owned by Joss Whedon. The next ones are owned by Marvel Comics, Walter B. Gibson and Richard Donner respectively. Please note that the Latter two crossovers are minor and will only come into things occasionally...  
  
  
~~  
  
_Lamont’s Shooting Gallery_  
_August 9th 1999_  
  
Detective Kate Lockley walked calmly into Lamont Cranston’s little establishment, laying down her money and heading for the range. Lamont’s was a favoured place for the L.A.P.D. to work on their marksmanship while off duty. It presented a cool and calm atmosphere that could not be had at the station and allowed the cops to get to know some of the more savoury marksmen of the city. The, shall we say, less then savoury types were intelligent enough not to frequent a place that was popular with the cops. Kate was personally or the opinion that the reputation cops had for liking donuts was something that cut down on donut shop robberies by 75%.  
  
It was as she finally arrived in the range area that Kate could not hold back a grimace. It was just her luck that she would choose to visit the place at the same time as Martin ‘the Lethal Weapon’ Riggs. Even Riggs’ own partner was rumoured to be wary of the man’s questionable sanity. And the fact that his wife Lorna was with the I.A.B. was not something that enhanced his already shaky popularity.  
  
Next to Riggs was someone who Kate had never seen before. The eye-patch and assorted small scars made him look like he belonged in the seamier parts of town and the maniacal look in his eye as he glared out challengingly at Riggs made her kind of nervous. It was only the warm smile that the boy was flashing that assured her that the lad wasn’t about to attack the unstable officer. “Fifty bucks?” the boy stated questioningly.  
  
Kate blinked. What was that about? Martin’s eyes and grin were equally maniacal. “You’re on, Junior. Fifty bucks on who can paint the prettiest picture. All we need is an impartial judge…”  
  
Kate rolled her eyes. Somehow she doubted paints would be used in any way to ‘paint’ these pictures. “Hey Lockley!”  
  
Kate cringed at Riggs’ shout. She didn’t want to get involved in this.  
  
**  
  
_L.A.P.D. 23rd Precinct_  
_August 9th 1999_  
  
Kate groaned internally. It had been a long and arduous process, judging the assorted ‘pretty pictures’. Say what you will about Martin Riggs, the man could use a gun. Amazingly though, the boy was equally proficient, displaying a certain creative zeal that disturbed her. Xander, as he’d introduced himself, was a P.I., just getting his business off the ground. His firm, or so he claimed, was being formed to deal with the strange and disturbing type of cases.  
  
Kate could not help but glance long and hard at the file of the case she was currently working on. The ‘Kitty-Cat Killer’ as the press had dubbed him/her was becoming very troublesome. Six deaths by exsanguination, left on their own front stoops with a dead and headless kitten left beside them. No other link to what had drawn the killer to them and the only evidence were some finger-prints that could not be matched to any other crime in California that she could find.  
  
The case was exactly the sort of thing that Xander had claimed that his little crew had dealt with. Kate shook her head. It was irrelevant. To share information with Xander would have been a lovely way to lose her job. This was a police matter. The last thing she needed was some gung-ho Private Eye getting mixed up in things and getting himself killed. Kate nodded in confirmation even as the phone rang. “Lockley.”  
  
“Kate? We’ve got another one…”  
  
Kate sighed. Here we go again. “Where are you, Pete?”  
  
**  
  
_Friends of Humanity Rally_  
_August 9th 1999_  
  
“Do you want people like this, living in your neighbourhood?!”  
  
The shout of the speaker was accented by a youthful oriental girl being tossed on the dais in chains. Jubilation Lee was not having a good week. A mere few days ago she’d been exposed as a mutant at the worst time. Her father, a staunch member of the Friends of Humanity, had publicly disowned her and handed her off to the organisation wit a disgusted look. For a young woman who had long been raised as Daddy’s little girl, this turn of events was nothing short of devastating. Her once stylish cloths were badly torn, she could not project pyrotechnic energy very effectively with her hands cuffed behind her, and her only method of escape would be to explosively charge her cuffs, which would likely result in blowing her hands clean off.  
  
And so, here she was, on display before the Friends of Humanity rally, ready to be executed publicly for daring to be different. If by some chance the cops should stop by and free her before her death, it was highly likely that she would be taken by a military project that had use for mutants like her. She shuddered at the very thought. Who’d have thought that death would be the more pleasant alternative she would face today.  
  
**  
  
Two men crept quietly out of the back of the crowd as the rhetoric built up even louder. “Are you sure you want ta do dis thing, Alexander?”  
  
“You can hear them as well as I can, Sam. I haven’t heard of one damn thing that girl has done except for being different.”  
  
“Agreed. My only problem is numbers. There’ve got to be at least thirty-odd people out there and we are just two, with a possible third kneeling and cuffed.”  
  
“I know. You remember the plan?”  
  
“I also remember Kendra claiming you were crazy. I’m starting to see why now.”  
  
“Now you’re catching on? Took you long enough.”  
  
**  
  
Things were developing towards climax. Jubilation allowed tears to trickle freely down her cheeks. If you couldn’t cry during your own, undeserved execution then when could you cry?  
  
It was then that the power went out, plunging the building into darkness. What in the name of God was going on? A deep voice echoed through the room. “I am Outage! All transgressors against the brotherhood that is mutant-kind will all DIE!!!” With that the sound of bullets flying caused Jubilation to clutch the ground more fervently, as did everyone else.  
  
As the sound of bullets continued to echo, killing who knows how many based on the frightened screams, a man-shaped being slipped casually to her side, snapping her cuffs with a set of bolt cutters and then holding out his free hand. “Come with me if you want to live.”  
  
Jubilation was too frightened to contemplate the choice of words of her rescuer as they made there way to the door, by which another man shaped figure stood, holding a few objects in his arms. Abruptly the bullets seemed to cut off and the two men dragged her out the outer door at top speed, long before whoever might still be alive had figured out that their sacrifice of choice was M.I.A.  
  
**  
  
_Friends of Humanity Rally_  
_August 9th 1999_  
  
Police were baffled by the panicked 911 call from the ‘Friends of Humanity’, saying that some psychotic mutant killing machine named Outage had attacked their rally with machine guns.  
  
The member who called in the crank call was arrested and almost charged over the incident. After all, how can a crowd be raked with machine gun fire and yet no one, not even the floor or the walls, had suffered a bullet wound. The story was ridiculous.  
  
**  
  
_X-File Investigations_  
_August 9th 1999_  
  
Jubilation was furious. “What in the name of god were you doing? Do you have any idea how many people you’ve killed today. And when the police catch up with you they’ll try me as an accomplice.  
  
The man in the patch, Xander, merely grinned benignly. “Killed who exactly? I don’t remember killing anyone. Do you remember killing anyone, Sam?”  
  
The black man, Sam, matched Xander’s grin. “Not dat I recall, Alexander.”  
  
Jubilation could not believe what she was hearing. Did they have no concept of the damage the number of bullets they must have expended could do? Had she been thinking clearly she might have wondered how two men could even fire that many bullets. “You fired bullets into a crowd by the bucket-load you morons! What do you think happened to those people, they went home without a scratch?”  
  
Xander’s irritating grin widened. “Bullets? What bullets?”  
  
Jubilation turned to Sam. “Please tell me he’s not insane.”  
  
Sam smirked in response. “Oh, I’m afraid dat he is crazy, Miss Lee, but he’s also correct. We did not fire a single shot.”  
  
At Jubilation’s gob-smacked expression, Sam turned on a boom box he’d been carrying and allowed the sound a bullets flying to break free once again.  
  
Jubilation was, if possible, even more shocked. “You mean?”  
  
“You’d be amazed what a man can do with some electrical skills, a CD containing WW2 sound effects and a big megaphone.”  
  
Xander nodded at Sam’s comment. “And another man with some experience creeping about in the dark and a good set of bolt cutters. So, what’s your handle?”  
  
Jubilation stopped dead for a moment. “My what?”  
  
Xander rolled his eyes expressively. “Your handle? Your mutant name? I know your birth name is Jubilation Lee, but what’s the name you took when you discovered your abilities?”  
  
Jubilation Lee stared consideringly at the older youth before her. Daddy had always taught her to be wary of strangers. Then again, Daddy had also told her to take her medicine like a good girl when he’d handed her over to his ‘Friends’. “I’m Jubilee.”  
  
Xander grinned broadly in response. “Well then, this is X-File Investigations, Jubilee. Our charter is to deal with the crime of the supernatural kind, though we’ll probably be called in to deal with a few mutant and anti-mutant terrorists too, given the current climate in the wide world. I was wondering if you’d like to come aboard.”  
  
Jubilee couldn’t believe her ears. “You mean I can stay?”  
  
Sam nodded solemnly. “Or go, if dat is your choice, Miss Lee. We are not here to force anyone, though we will readily admit that someone of your special talents might be useful to our organisation…”  
  
Jubilee shuddered slightly. “No experiments, you hear me?”  
  
Sam looked vaguely insulted. “Of course not, Miss Lee. Who do you think we are, the people we rescued you from?”  
  
Jubilee smiled at that. She was already beginning to like, Sam. The big guy reminded her of Daddy before he’d gone all Anti-Mutant on her. “Alright then. Where do I sign up.”  
  
Xander’s grin widened further, impossible as that might seem. “Welcome to X-File investigations, Jubilee. We seek the truth.”  
  
~~  
  
  
Jasper


End file.
